Sheathing the Gun, an Epilogue
by fignae
Summary: Femmeslash with characters from a Chinese movie, So Close. This is my imagined epilogue to Qun and Hung's relationship.
1. Meeting

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fanfiction. So Close is not mine and no commercial profit will be gained from this piece of writing. Femmeslash, based on subtext in the movie itself, which is, incidentally in Mandarin/Cantonese. I couldn't resist doing English fic. Had to compromise the dialogue though, because most of it was visualized in Mandarin and then translated back to English. 

Additional note: Qun is pronounced, approximately, "Chueen", and Hung would be "Hoong". I just like these spellings because they underline the fact that the characters have different accents and backgrounds.

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Sheathing the Gun, an Epilogue

They came across each other again three years later, in the dinginess of a district known for its crime and murder rate. Hung had been looking for clues to a major mobster's movements.

**Chapter 1**

The alley Hung is wading through smells of last month's garbage and yesterday's blood, thrown haphazardly together like corpses after a battle.

She picks her way over a pile of crumpled rags, ducks a young man on a bicycle, then narrowly evades a sewage grate, catching a glimpse of a small figure in front of her. This person is petite, wrapped up in a heavy coat, face covered by a flowing scarf betokening deliberate anonymity. But a pair of black eyes shines clear over the fabric, eyes that appear to be trained on Hung.

A series of images instantly blazes over her mind: snapshots of database profiles, the faces of criminals she has seen in person. One face in particular stands out in clear detail, accompanied by emotions she has not felt for a long while. Bright, lively eyes held an expressiveness that had riveted her to the spot. Hung remembers the cheeky glint in them when she had allowed herself to return the half-smile they had in common. It is a memory whose outlines match the figure in front of her.

The woman steps closer, letting her scarf slip, and Hung observes that dark circles shade her intent gaze, and her walk appears firmer, heavier than before. They thread their way towards each other, stopping farther apart than they might have. Hung can sense the wariness still between them. Police and thief, after all. She chuckles and dangles one hand in the air, towards Ai Qun. "Not afraid of me, are you?"

Qun breaks into a smile, and magically, the tiredness bowing her shoulders backs away a little, leaving Hung wondering where she has been and the circumstances that wiped that smile away. "Never was. How is it, wearing the new badge?"

Hung pauses in surprise, then rallies, grinning right back. "Not bad. Your news is pretty up-to-date huh? I get promoted for a week, not used to the new duties yet, and you already know."

"Of course." Smug, teasing, really. "I might have left the business, but I still have my contacts."

Hung raises an eyebrow. "Is that what brings you here?"

"My contacts?" Qun looks down, swept a hank of hair behind an ear. The gesture looks as girlish as it used to. "You aren't here to check up on me, are you?"

Hung crosses her arms in mock exasperation. So wary. Yet there it is, the banter, and something within her eases. "If I were, you wouldn't have seen me. I'm investigating the Duxton Chan case and heard there might be leads in this area." She spreads one hand, palm open, eyebrows meaningfully raised, and Qun laughs with a quick flash of pretty teeth.

"Okay then. I'm looking for a flat. Just been to see one."

"Was it any good?"

"Nope. It wasn't what I wanted."

"And what's that?"

Bemused. "Huge bay windows, branded furniture, beautiful garden. Guess I won't find something like the old place, eh?"

Hung remembers 'the old place' only because she checked up on the sisters after the incident. It had been atonement, of a sort. It should have been just another case, just another bandit struck down in action, but Ai Lin's death hadn't sat well with her for some reason or other.

"You sold it?"

"Rented it to someone." The weight of memories lingers, almost palpable, in the sigh she heaves. "It was my family's house, I couldn't sell it. But living in such a huge place...." She shrugs.

_Alone_. Hung bites her lip. Glancing at the chaotic destruction around them, she asks, "how about a drink? For old times' sake."

"I'm really not in the business anymore, you know," Qun suddenly says, looking up. A grin fleets across her face.

"Well, that wasn't what I meant."

"What was it you meant?"

"My meaning was--"

As they pace off side by side, Hung fancies she can spy a glint in Ai Qun's eyes again.


	2. Tea

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fanfiction. So Close is not mine and no commercial profit will be gained from this piece of writing. Femmeslash, based on subtext in the movie itself, which is, incidentally in Mandarin/Cantonese. I couldn't resist doing English fic. Had to compromise the dialogue though, because most of it was visualized in Mandarin and then translated back to English.

Additional note: Qun is pronounced, approximately, "Chueen", and Hung would be "Hoong". I just like these spellings because they underline the fact that the characters have different accents and backgrounds.

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Sheathing the Gun, an Epilogue

**Chapter 2  
**

Later in the café, a plate of toast sits between them, cups of tea on either end of the table they share.

Hung has her arms on the pristine tablecloth, her head slightly cocked. Qun is stirring her tea. There is silence, the two women temporarily at a loss for what to say underneath the witticisms and sly grins. Hung has felt it creeping upon her for some time now, the sense that it's now or never, the words she has yet to say. They have seen absolutely nothing of each other for three whole years, and the gap is difficult to breach. How could it be that something so easy should be so reluctant to slip into the open?

She clears her throat. "Ai Qun ah-- I hope you don't mind, me calling you Ah Qun." Qun does not react. Ah Hung feels like the poster child for 'false cheer' but goes on anyway. "You know, those events that happened, we both were doing what we had to do. I regret your sister's death."

"Those are long past, why bring them up?" Qun says rather flatly.

Quietly, Hung says, "Because those are things we will never forget."

Scorn colours Qun's crystalline voice. "Won't you?"

"One does not easily forget such a pair of sisters. You were the best in the business. Committed a crime that no one could have solved. If you hadn't given me the clue--"

"At that time, I was still young. Naive," Qun says in a tone that discourages further comment, and, indeed, she is frowning. But this is something Hung decided she has to do, and her hands, cupped around her cup, tighten their grip.

"If my friendship could help you move on, I would," she states. When nothing is forthcoming, she shakes her head. "It was you who went after me. Why?"

For a moment, Hung thinks that she has gone too far. Perhaps this bird will fly away after all. Then Qun mumbles, lower lip extended like a reluctant child who has done something wrong. "I was ... curious."

"You asked me," Hung says cautiously, sneaking a glance at her, "you asked me whom I would choose, you or he. I did not answer your question."

"Some things do not need to be said."

Well. "Perhaps."

"However," Hung adds, "you also did not give me the time to answer the question." And what would she say now? She doesn't know, not yet, but she wants to know, so she rolls with the punches like the trained fighter she is.

Qun sounds uncharacteristically quiet to Hung's ears. "What are you saying?"

"Why don't we continue our state of truce?"

She pauses with the cup raised before her lips. "Okay."

"Good," Hung nods, "I know I've said this before, but have you considered joining the forces?"

A grin, lopsided and familiar. "Recruiting again, Ah Hung?"

Hung grins back. "Yes, you could say so. I can't let a talent like you get away, right?"

"Maybe so. I will think about it."

And that's the best that Hung will be getting from her; she knows this well, and Qun is aware of it too. Hung steers the conversation back to normal territory. If anything between them could be considered normal. "How's it now? You are looking for a flat?"

"Yep. A place to stay first, and then a job." A trace of playfulness remains in her expression.

When she divulges nothing more, Hung internally files the discrepancy away for further analysis. She folds her fingers. "Well, good places aren't that easy to find. Are you looking for someplace away from the city?"

"I'm not particular. I thought about permanently renting a hotel once. But yes, a flat seems the best choice. Do you have something to recommend?"

A place to stay. Hung thinks of one day three years in their past, a day of darkness and the smell of sewage. She scratches at her nose, and makes the suggestion in her most casual tones. "You could come over and stay with me. I'm living alone anyway." She pauses, having taken the gamble, and watches as Qun studies the handle on her saucer.

"Wouldn't your boyfriend mind?" Qun chuckles. "It wouldn't be convenient."

Hung repeats the words from before. "What boyfriend?"

Qun smiles.


	3. Baiting

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fanfiction. So Close is not mine and no commercial profit will be gained from this piece of writing. Femmeslash, based on subtext in the movie itself, which is, incidentally in Mandarin/Cantonese. I couldn't resist doing English fic. Had to compromise the dialogue though, because most of it was visualized in Mandarin and then translated back to English.

Additional note: Qun is pronounced, approximately, "Chueen", and Hung would be "Hoong". I just like these spellings because they underline the fact that the characters have different accents and backgrounds.

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Sheathing the Gun, an Epilogue

**Chapter 3**

Qun moves in three days later, driving a nondescript moving van into Hung's parking lot, a pair of scruffy moving-boys sitting on packing crates at the back. Hung is surprised to see how little she has when everything actually gets lugged into the house. Most of her "furniture" takes the form of electronic equipment, carefully foam-wrapped into unidentifiable lumps and stowed in styrofoam boxes. When she remarks on it, Qun grins and jokes about renting her some. Unpacking takes the rest of the afternoon and eats into their evening, but by the end of that Saturday, they're sitting by the windows delving into rice and canned beef.

Hung sleeps a little better that night.

Life falls into a routine over the next week. As far as Hung knows, Qun is going out every day to look for a job. She doesn't ask for details, just finds herself noting Qun's entrances and exits from the apartment, peeking in on her a couple of nights to make sure--she tells herself--the younger woman is in bed and not messing up her house, picking up a few stray drink cans beside the sofa when Qun does leave her things lying around. They appear to be honouring the truce between them.

_She wants to learn some moves,_ Hung thinks, catching Qun watching her stretching exercises one morning. She used to work out in her living room every day, but Qun's appearance somehow restrained her morning activities, and she's taken to jogging around the neighbourhood instead, only using her living room once in a while. Qun never speaks of her past, but Hung supposes she must miss it. Assassination, like fighting, is a craft one doesn't easily leave behind.

Sitting with legs folded, Hung closes her eyes in meditation. The sunlight streaming through the bay windows surrounds her in uplifting warmth.


	4. Falling

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fanfiction. So Close is not mine and no commercial profit will be gained from this piece of writing. Femmeslash, based on subtext in the movie itself, which is, incidentally in Mandarin/Cantonese. I couldn't resist doing English fic. Had to compromise the dialogue though, because most of it was visualized in Mandarin and then translated back to English.

Additional note: Qun is pronounced, approximately, "Chueen", and Hung would be "Hoong". I just like these spellings because they underline the fact that the characters have different accents and backgrounds.

* * *

  
Sheathing the Gun, an Epilogue

**Chapter 4**

Qun watches as Hung meditates. Watches her kick at the punching bag placed strategically in the middle of the room. Finally, Hung turns to look for a towel, and she seizes her chance.

The towel whizzes through the air and hooks Hung around the neck. The policewoman doesn't waste a moment. She whirls in place with easy finesse, untangling herself from the fabric, only to find her eyes covered by a pair of small hands.

"Guess who?"

Hung grins. And reaches back to catch Qun's wrists, then spins around and sweeps a kick at her. Qun leaps just in time, and the kick misses. Quick as a flash, Hung follows up with a series of blinding punches, all of which miss by inches as Qun backpedals.

"I thought you'd forgotten how to fight," Hung teases.

Qun ducks the punches and lobs a fist at Hung's stomach. It thuds into the throw pillow Hung picked up moments ago. The next kicks, too, are foiled by the pillow. Feinting a punch, Qun sends the offending pillow flying away, and Hung laughs.

They go at each other with fists alone. Qun, feeling the exhilaration pumping through her veins, abruptly regrets her decision to move away from everything that had caused her sister's death. She puts the thought away for later, though, because Hung is moving at her far too fast and lack of practice coupled with the fact that Hung was always better than her at martial arts is keeping her backing away two steps for every one advanced.

Then her back is against a chair and she is barely evading incoming attacks. She reaches back, hooks a chair leg, and shoves the wooden thing in front. Hung leaps on top of it, and off again when she attempts to make it topple over. The failed move costs her a precious second or so, however, and Hung easily has her in a stranglehold. An awkward one, for sure, since it is from the front, but a winning move nonetheless. Qun gasps for breath. She moves her hands up, but in vain. Hung rather smugly informs, "If this were a real fight, I could kill you."

Qun immediately goes limp, eyes falling shut.

Hung frowns. "Ah Qun?" Getting no response, she bends and pretends to check for a pulse.

Swift as an eagle, Qun curls her hand around the outstretched wrist and shoves hard with her other hand, sending them crashing to the floor. "You--" Hung chokes in mock anger, just as Qun grabs hold of her other wrist, lowers herself, and kisses her, hard.

Hung kisses back, and, once Qun has forgotten about holding on to her wrists, runs gentle hands over the other woman's hair, and other places besides.

**- fin -**


End file.
